Street Wise
by kittgirl23
Summary: My responce to a challange to write RCIII out of Knight Rider


Street Wise  
  
Knight Rider characters copyright Glen A. Larson  
  
Any references to actual places or people are unintended and accidental.  
  
This is a work of pure fiction. Parental guidance recommended.  
  
The huge black semi took the turn in the road rather sharply. The young man at the wheel drummed his fingers on the wheel. A couple of diodes blinked their annoyance as the semi's computer attempted to compensate for its driver's apparent lack of interest. Reginald Cornelius the Third frowned at them. Turning his attention towards the road he let the semi accelerate downhill. He was headed back to California, alone. Michael and Kitt had decided to cruise ahead and Devon had opted to take the Foundation's jet. Bonnie had gone with him. RCIII stabbed at AUTO-Drive. The semi's computer assumed control and left RCIII free to get a cup of coffee. Devon didn't like him leaving the cab, but what the hell, he wasn't here was he. RCIII flopped onto one of the couches. His gaze travelled over Kitt's maintenance area, the computers and all the equipment. The coffee had brewed. Stretching he walked over to one of the cupboards and reached for his cup. Poring himself a cup of coffee he returned to the couch. He felt the semi take to a ramp. He had been with FLAG for well over a year now. Yet something felt wrong. His gaze turned to his coffee, or rather his cup. "Street Avenger" it read. He ran his fingers over the letters. Yes, something was missing. "But I don't need refuelling! I have plenty of." Kitt's remark was lost on Michael who stabbed Manual and took the car to a service station/café. "I know, buddy. But I do." He parked Kitt next to a beat-up old Chevy. "That last case took a lot out of me and some food and conversation is just what I need. Besides, we're about an hour ahead of the semi. Call RC and tell him to pick us up as he passes by. I have to admit that perhaps that bunk in the semi is just what I need." Kitt couldn't argue with that. Michael had broken a rib on their case and though he'd never admit it, Kitt's cabin wasn't designed for patients. Beep, beep. RCIII looked up. His hands were covered in motorcycle grease. Grabbing a rag he walked to one of the computer terminals and used his elbow to activate the comm. system. "What is it, Kitt?" He found himself facing Kitt's dash and voice modulator. "Michael asked me to tell you to pick us up. We are parked about 60 miles from you position. I have sent the semi's computer the coordinates seeing you are not at the wheel. You know how Devon feels about that." RCIII did not respond. "RC, are you alright?" Kitt's voice sounded worried. Showing his hands to the camera connected to the comm. system RC replied, "I'm fine Kitt, just kinda busy. Sure, I'll pick you guys up. Semi out." This time he used his other elbow to cut the link. Kitt had sensed that he was preoccupied. 60 miles, about an hour. RC turned to his bike. Hmmm less time then he had thought. The comm. link had been cut. It was almost a jolt to Kitt. Kitt ran RC's responses though his voice analyser. He identified stress. RC was usually easygoing with a wild accent. There had been no trace of that in their brief conversation. Something was bothering their friend. Settling down for an hour's recharge Kitt decided to talk to Michael about it when he was finished with his lunch. His bike was ready, as was his decision. RC had showered and cleaned up. His few belongings were packed into the bags on his bike. For the first time in ages he felt the trill of adventure. The only thought that clouded that was the fact that just up this highway he'd have to tell them. That was the problem. He took his foot off of the accelerator. The semi slowed until it came to a stop on the roadside. Airbrakes hissed as he climbed down from the cab. He thought back to his days as the Street Avenger, to his first meeting with Michael and Devon's job offer. He circled the semi busying himself with checking it. It had been a good ride, but still. RC leaned against the rig's front grill. The western sunshine brought a smile to his face. .still he missed his freedom. He had grown up on the streets, learned how to survive and in his own mind he knew he had even made the streets a safer place to be. And he missed it. There! He had admitted it. He had always been a man who knew his own destiny and made his own decisions. He heard the shrill sound of the comm. system. Kitt had no doubt been tracking his progress and was inquiring why he had stopped. He climbed into the cab and shifted gears. One more duty to perform to FLAG. He hoped they would understand his decision. The semi pulled up to the gas station at about the same time that Michael walked out. Kitt tried to determine RCIII's mood by his walk but failed. He seemed bright as he walked up to Michael. "Jo, Michael!" He slapped Michael on the shoulder. Michael grimaced in pain, but punched back with a grin. Michael looked RC over, "What's with the clothes?" RC was wearing his motorcycle coverall. "Yea, that's something we gotta talk about." RC motioned towards Kitt's hood and both men sat down. "Michael, remember when you told me about Wilton and his final words? One man can make a difference." Michael nodded, but he couldn't see where this was going. "See, it's been a blast and don't think this has anything to do with you or Kitt or Devon or." Michael cut him off, "RC, what are you saying?" Taking a deep breath RC blurted, "I'm going back to being the Street Avenger. I'm quitting FLAG." Michael had been tracking Kitt's scanner with one finger, but now he skipped a beat. "This is kinda sudden RC." Kitt said. Holding up a hand RC replied, "Here me out ok? Like I said, I've been thinking about making a difference. I want to do that again. I miss the ol' neighbourhood. Guys this isn't me! Just drivin'. I need action! You have your life, I think I have to go back to mine." Kitt contemplated the young man. Deep down in his processor he knew RCIII was right. Kitt had overheard some of the latest conversations between Devon and RCIII. They had almost been arguments. Michael was bound to argue this with RDIII, Kitt decided it would be better if he didn't, "If you are sure that this is what you want RC, I think you should as they say go for it. Just take care of yourself." Michael's eyebrows shot up as he turned and scrutinized his partner though the windshield. But he didn't say anything. Kitt had accepted RC leaving without a fight. Getting up Michael Knight extended a hand towards Reginald. "I owe you man, my life among other things, but Kitt's right if this is what you want." Jumping up from the hood RCIII accepted Michael's outstretched hand. "Man, I'm as sure of this as I'm the Street Avenger! You send my love to Bonnie and my apologies to Devon for returning the semi to FLAG's grounds on AUTO-Drive." Michael nodded and settled back onto Kitt's hood. RCIII got his dirt bike out and started it. With a final glance back he gave a hoot and gunned the bike down the highway. Kitt's scanner tracked him until he was out of scanner range. "Well, buddy. Do you think we made the right decision in not trying to talk him out of this?" Kitt opened the door and sent coordinates for the semi to follow them to the Knight mansion, "It would have been pointless to try, Michael. He had made his decision and who are we to determine how he should live his life." Kitt started his engine and handed control over to Michael. "Besides, we can't be everywhere and it's a good thing to know that the Street Avenger is back, come next time you decide to walk into a dark alley alone!" 


End file.
